


Fragment of a Lost Poem

by inalasahl



Series: Tide Is to Moon [2]
Category: Firefly
Genre: Declarations Of Love, F/M, Jossed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-06-20
Updated: 2005-06-20
Packaged: 2018-01-17 16:18:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1394152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inalasahl/pseuds/inalasahl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inara comes back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fragment of a Lost Poem

**Author's Note:**

> **Acknowledgements:** I owe more than I can describe to llaras for her steadfast encouragement and support while I was writing. Thanks also go to her for her beta work, as well as to jebbypal, Cassie E. and Dark Emerald. They were wonderful and insightful. I also thank kernelm, for his patient help with the translations and skripka, for listening to me whine and saying the right thing to help me come up with the two lines I needed.
> 
> I dedicate this fic to janeeyre17 in honor of her birth and in gratitude for her many observations on Inara over the years, without which this fic would not be possible.
> 
>  
> 
> I wrote this for [the Symptoms of Love challenge](http://www.obsessivetendencies.net/challenge/graves.html) for stories based on the poems of Robert Graves.
> 
> Although this is a sequel, it can be read as a stand-alone.

> "O the clear moment, when from the mouth  
>  A word flies, current immediately  
>  Among friends; or when a loving gift astounds  
>  As the identical wish nearest the heart;  
>  Or when a stone, volleyed in sudden danger,  
>  Strikes the rabid beast full on the snout!  
>  Moments in never..."  
>  Robert Graves, Fragment of a Lost Poem  
> 

Bizui
    Shut up
Ai ya
    oh no
Zhen daomei
    Oh, how very unfortunate
Go se:
    Crap
Tzao gao:
    oh, shit
Tianxia suoyoude ren dou gaisi:
    Damn everyone in the verse
Tianna
    God
Xia shuo
    don't be ridiculous with that crazy talk
tian xiaode
    heaven knows what
tamade
    motherfucking
pigu 
    ass
banfeis
    a made-up word, literal Chinese for "half-price" based on the Japanese hangyoku (lit. half-charge, a geisha-in-training), who can be hired to host dinner 

* * *

"You say you know this man," said the first fed, who had dark, almost pupil-less eyes and dark hair, as he slid a picture across the table. 

The informant twitched, eyeing the gloved hands of the two men sitting in front of him with unease. "Sure, I know him." 

"What about these two?"

"Naw, I never saw 'em before."

"Tell us what you do know."

The informant took a drink. "Cobb ain't a man to cross lightly," he said.

The third man, who had piercing blues eyes and red hair, finally spoke. "Tell us what we wish to know, and we'll make sure you never have to worry about 'Cobb' again." 

"Money up front? That's what you said."

The red-haired man slid a communicator across the table. "An account has been opened in your name at the Bank of Osiris. Go ahead and check." 

The man tapped a few keys and whistled. "Well, thank you very much, gentleman." He smiled broadly. "Cobb's name is Jayne. He runs with a fellow called Malcolm Reynolds. Reynolds is strictly small time — thief, smuggler for hire." 

"He's a smuggler?"

"Yeah, he's got a beat up old Firefly."

"A Firefly?" The dark-haired man asked while exchanging a look with the red-haired man. "What is the name of this Firefly?" 

The informant took another drink and snorted, "I don't remember, something stupid."

"And how do we find this Reynolds?"

"He gets a lot of jobs from a guy named Badger, based outta Persephone."

The dark-haired man raised a brow at the red-haired man. "Out of Persephone," he restated.

The informant gulped the last of his glass and glanced at the door. "Yeah," he confirmed.

"Anything else?"

"That's all I know," the informant answered with a shrug.

"Thank you. You've been very helpful." The dark-haired man pulled a thin metal wand from his breast pocket. 

* * *

Inara bit back a curse as the wrong note issued once again from the dulcimer. There was no reason she should have such difficulties concentrating. She took a deep breath and tried to again to center herself, though a voice deep within told her it was a vain hope. Only one other time in her life had she felt like this. This time, she had even less idea about how to fix the muddle she found herself in. As she returned to her dulcimer, she almost missed the soft, hesitant knock on her door. She was no longer used to listening for such things. Her ear had grown accustomed to the sound of her door flying open followed by the bouncy step of a cheerful mechanic, or the defiant tread of a blue-eyed captain ... She shook herself, and rose to open the door.

So polite the crew on this new ship, she was never going to get used to the knocking. "Mr. Poe," she said with a weary smile as the youth blushed and goggled at the parts of her shuttle he could see. She suspected they were not going to get used to her either. 

"S-Sorry to disturb you, ma'am," he said. "Cap'n sent me to tell you that there's a call for you."

"Thank you," Inara said. "I'll take it in here." The boy nodded; Inara closed the door. She had decided to maintain a professional distance on this ship; it had seemed the correct decision at the time, but now she wondered if she wouldn't have been better served by getting to know the rest of the crew. There were times when she felt alone. 

The screen beeped; the call was coming through. Inara sat down before the panel. "Emmy?" she questioned as a familiar face filled a screen. 

There was a reluctant, achingly polite nod. "Inara." Inara could not imagine what the call could be about. "Inara, it is time for you to come home." 

Inara lowered her eyes and sent up a quick prayer for patience. She returned her gaze to the screen. "Emmy, while I'm gratified that you miss me, I—" 

"Inara," Emmy said with sniff. "I do not miss you. Of course I believe that your return to House Madrassa would be in your best interest. You seem to be picking up dreadful habits. I can actually see irritation on your face." Inara's nostrils flared, but she said nothing. If she argued, she would just prove Emmy correct that she was starting to allow her emotions to show. "However, that is not why I called you. I have called you to tell you that Jin-Mei is ill and asking for you." 

"Ill?" Inara whispered.

"She's dying," Emmy stated baldly.

Inara blanched. "Mother?"

* * *

_"She has violated one of the Guild's most sacred laws. She no longer deserves the title of companion."_

_"This situation has made it quite clear that her work as a companion can be very useful to our cause. We may need her assistance again. At the very least, publicly shunning her would endanger her, if it became known that she was the one who—"_

_"Then she leaves. We don't want her here."_

_"Where will I go? I have lived all my life on Sihnon."_

_Jin-Mei thumped her cane on the floor and stood. "There are never enough companions to serve on the rim," she said heavily. "I am sure there are plenty of Independent sympathizers there for you to spy upon."_

_"Perhaps there is one here," the senator suggested with a warning in her voice._

_Byrne gasped and stood. "You dare accuse Priestess Jin-Mei of treason!"_

_But Jin-Mei only waved him back down. "Thank you, Byrne," she said. "But you forget your training. I am sure the senator meant no insult. She knows better."_

_"Of course," the senator said, nodding stiffly._

_Jin-Mei turned to Inara. "If you must remain a companion," she said. "Then I suggest you do it far from here."_

_"Mother, I—" Inara's voice trailed off. The plea died in her throat as Jin-Mei turned and walked away, leaning heavily on her cane. Inara thought to herself that she would never forget the sound of that cane thumping against the hard floor._

She had been right.

* * *

Inara entered the mess. "Excuse me, captain," she said. "I must return home as swiftly as possible. My mother is ill."

"Mother," guffawed one of the crew members as she wiped down a gun with her feet propped up on the table. "Surprised you lot even know who your mothers are," she laughed. 

"Bizui," the captain said, cuffing the other woman on the arm. "Mother is what they call the woman who is house priestess when they first start their training." She turned to Inara. "We'll be near to Boros in about two days, Miss Serra. You ought to be able to pick up passage there to the core. 'Bout the best we can do for you, I'm afraid." 

"Thank you," Inara said. "I appreciate the effort."

* * *

Inara landed on Sihnon at night. An ocean of light stretched before her and she swallowed hard. She had never thought to see it again.

Sihnon was a core world, accounted one of the most beautiful in the verse and a popular vacation spot for wealthy people the core over. Beneath its pleasant facade lurked an extensive working class on whose backs the ease and comfort of core life depended. Thus, the great planet had its factory settlements, its tenements, its charity homes and all the other less savory places necessary to maintaining its double life. One such place was located in a non-descript building on a forgotten corner of the great city itself: the Double Seventh orphanage, where the children of the dead poor could only dream of new beginnings. 

_There was no great meeting room in the orphanage so all the boys and girls of a certain age had been shepherded into the hallway for reasons unknown to them. "Don't fidget, children," the home warden snapped in exasperation. "Oh, please, do try to look your best. This is a great opportunity for all of you. You can't imagine how difficult it was for me to even convince her to come here to look you over." Somewhere in the horde a girl wiggled uncomfortably in her cheap white mourning dress. The coarse fabric chafed her skin and the glossy dark brown hair that cascaded down her back ended in a frightful tangle for it was longer than her short arms could reach. A door chime sounded in the distance and the children were left in the gloomy windowless hallway while the warden left to answer it._

_Inara squirmed, trying to give herself more space as she stood wedged between the other girls and boys near to her age. The white mourning dress the home had given her was too tight; she felt suffocated. "Why are we here?" Inara whispered to the girl beside her._

_"We're not allowed to talk in the hallway," the girl said, turning pointedly away._

_"I know that," Inara replied. "But has this ever — ow!"_

_The girl had turned and pinched Inara viciously on the arm. "Leave me alone," she ordered._

_A short time later, there was movement at the end of the corridor. The young girl strained eyes that were still adjusting to the dark to see who was coming. The house warden approached with a tall, middle-aged woman with a lined face and erect bearing. This new person was quite possibly the most beautiful woman the girl had ever seen. The girl recognized the woman as a companion. She had seen several once at a town festival. She remembered the silk clothing they wore, and what her mother had told her about the different styles._

_"Hmm," the companion muttered, grabbing one girl by the chin and gazing into her eyes. She shook her head, "No." She walked up one side of the aisle and down the other. Seemingly at random she picked out girls and boys from the group, grasping their chins and sharply yanking them upwards. Inara hoped the woman wouldn't choose to touch her. It was apparently a vain hope. When the companion came to Inara, she grasped her chin without preamble, yanking it upwards and staring into her eyes. Inara squirmed in her grasp. The woman let go, and Inara rubbed at her chin, glaring resentfully at the woman. "Is this all you have?" the companion said disdainfully to the home warden._

_"Of the age you asked for," the house warden said nervously. "I realize that—"_

_The other woman cut her off with a sharp gesture. "Very well, tell me about this one," she said, indicating Inara. "The others are unsuitable."_

_The home warden turned to the children. "Inara, please wait out here while this lady and I talk. The rest of you may return to your activities." The other children scampered off, relieved to escape the gimlet eye of the companion. The home warden turned to the companion and gestured through an open doorway. "If you would come into my office," she said._

_The two of them swept out, leaving Inara to sit on the bench in confusion. She hugged her arms to herself. What was it she was suitable for?_

_"Inara is one of our newest arrivals," the home warden's voice drifted through the open door. "As you can see she is still in mourning."_

_"Disgraceful dress, hardly worth the cost of the cloth."_

_"We are an orphanage, Madam."_

_"No relatives, then?"_

_"Her parents are dead. There is an aunt, but she left on a settler's ship for the rim. We haven't been able to locate her."_

_"How long ago was that?"_

_"Three years."_

_"Very well."_

_Inara was kicking her legs along the bottom of the only seat in the hallway as they came back out._

_The house warden knelt down before her. "Inara, do you know what a companion is?" Out of the corner of her eyes, Inara saw the companion roll her eyes impatiently._

_"Yes," Inara answered, hiding a smirk._

_"Inara," the companion said. "Would you like to be one?" In answer, Inara's stomach rumbled. "When did you last eat, child?"_

_"This morning."_

_"And what did you have?"_

_"Rice."_

_"And last night?"_

_"Rice."_

_"And before that?"_

_"Rice."_

_The woman sniffed. "I had rice, hom bao and stir-fried vegetables for my evening meal."_

_Inara studied the woman, one of the most beautiful she had ever seen. Inara's own mother had been beautiful, but she had had a pinched, thin look. The companion was rounded and well-toned; she had surely never had a hungry day. But the thing that most caught her eye was the woman's dress. She reached out a hesitant hand and stroked it. "Look Kaew," she whispered._

_The companion's eyes widened. "You know silk patterns?" she asked._

_"Ma worked in a silk factory. She brought home scraps to tie my hair back. I miss the feel of it. Will I—" she broke off, not knowing how to frame the questions._

_The companion knelt down and looked at Inara very seriously. "You will never miss it again," she replied. "Only scraps?" she asked. Inara nodded. "How would you like an entire dress of silk?"_

_Real food, and a silk dress. Inara let go of the dress and looked up at the house warden. "I want to be a companion," she declared._

* * *

The cane was nowhere in sight in Jin-Mei's large and airy suite. Inara had always expected to have something like this for herself someday. Jin-Mei lay on the bed, propped up on pillows, regal and beautiful even as the life slipped from her. Inara clasped her hands together and bowed low. "Mother Jin-Mei," she said.

"Come sit," replied a gravelly, quavering voice. She leaned her head back against the pillows and closed her eyes. Inara wondered what had happened to cause her to age so fast, but she knew better than to ask. 

Inara hesitated. "I was honored that you asked me to come," she said quietly.

Jin-Mei's eyes snapped open. "I haven't forgotten what you did."

Inara lowered her head. "No, I did not expect you had." There was a catch in her voice.

Jin-Mei sighed. "Inara, child, what have I told you about crying?"

"I'm sorry, Mother."

"Still so sensitive." She shook her head. "It can be a great gift for a companion, but not I think, in your case. I should have left you in the orphanage." Inara pressed her lips together to keep a painful moan from escaping. "But," Jin-Mei said, taking Inara's hand in hers, "we all make mistakes." 

Inara couldn't keep the tears back then. She buried her face against Jin-Mei's chest and wept. The old woman wrapped her arms around her. "Oh, my daughter," the woman breathed. "Why did you do it?" 

"He was selling weapon designs. We were at war."

"But to betray your client's trust — to share things you learned from your private time with him. It goes against everything we believe in." 

Client confidentiality was one of the Companion's Guild's most stringently enforced rules. There simply were no extenuating circumstances. "It seemed like the right thing to do." If it had been anything but weapons, machines to kill and maim, she might have held her tongue. Instead she had gone straight to the authorities and lost everything that had ever mattered to her. 

"And now?" Jin-Mei asked, studying Inara's face carefully.

Inara could not mask her uncertainty. "I do not know what the right thing is anymore."

"Yes," Jin-Mei said. "We doubt so much with time." Jin-Mei took a deep breath. "Many years ago, when I first became house priestess, one of our companions became pregnant. She refused to give the baby up. She was like a little sister to me, but that didn't matter. The rules are clear so I—" 

"Ordered her shunned?"

Jin-Mei nodded. "Yes. She died a few years ago and I was contacted by her lawyer. She had asked in her will that if anything happened to her, I would look after her little boy. It happened right after your betrayal. It seemed then that I was destined to be betrayed by those I loved so I did nothing. How dare she ask me for help?" The old woman sighed. "But now I am dying. So I look up her little boy. He is in bad trouble, Inara, and I don't have enough time left to help. I need you to help him for me." 

"What can I do?" The woman pressed a button next to her bed and a vid screen lowered down from the ceiling. She tapped the screen a few times and called up a picture. "This is her little boy," Jin-Mei said. 

Inara stared in shock, her mouth opening in surprise. "Mal."

* * *

A phantom ache ghosted along the place where he'd been stabbed the last time he'd been here on Persephone. Mal ignored it. "Kaylee," he called. "Pay the dock fee, and get us some passengers." He put his hand up. The sun beat down, blinding him.

"Does it seem a mite bright to you?" Mal asked Zoe as they started to walk into the crowd together.

"No, sir," she replied.

Kaylee cleared her throat and studied the screen as she typed in their willingness to take on passengers. "We need a new synchronizer," she said. 

"Ain't got the money," Mal said, barely pausing.

"I've put it off as long as I can," Kaylee pushed. "We don't get a replacement soon, we're going to be on the drift." 

"Put if off longer," Mal snapped.

Kaylee looked helplessly past Mal at Zoe. The older woman nodded imperceptibly. Kaylee breathed a sigh of relief and went back to typing. "Get a good deal," she chirped as they all walked past her. 

"We don't have the funds," Mal snapped.

Zoe nodded placidly. "Won't hurt to look around, see what's available."

"Gorram sun seems harsher than I remember." Mal grimaced. "Place seems to be a mite smellier too."

"I hadn't noticed," Zoe said.

"Now, what in the rut is that supposed to mean?"

"I'm just saying, sir, that maybe you're noticing a difference that—" Zoe broke off, looking past Mal's shoulder. 

He was too busy arguing to notice. "Zoe, I'm telling you. Everything about this place is changed."

Behind him came the whine of a charging gun, and a cheery accented voice. "Malcolm Reynolds."

Mal turned slowly, raising his hands. "Badger," he sighed. Clearly, some things hadn't changed.

* * *

As Inara continued to stare hungrily at the vid screen, it took her a moment to realize that Jin-Mei had kept speaking.

"—are hiding aboard Malcolm Reynolds's ship," Jin-Mei was saying. "However, the Alliance cannot seem to pin them down." She settled herself back more comfortably against the pillows. "I learned that they set a trap for him, a lure to draw him and his crew to a specific place. I called in every favor I had, pulled every Guild string that I know." 

Inara's scalp crawled as her training took in the way Jin-Mei's eyes slid from hers as she tapped her nails rapidly against the coverlet. "What have you done, Mother?" She watched in horrified fascination as Jin-Mei licked her lips. Inara would have sworn that her mother had not a single nerve in her body, yet now every one appeared to be jangling. 

"You were a spy," Jin-Mei said simply. "And you know this young man. I thought, I believed — that the best course would be to remind the right people of that fact, get you assigned to help them lure Lee's little boy. You would know exactly what they were planning, and you would be in a better position to subvert them." She flicked her nails toward Inara. "Now they know that you worked out of his ship for awhile; you are to make contact with him." 

"Make contact?" Inara repeated, searching Jin-Mei's expression.

"The trap is an art auction aboard a cruise ship. He'll be hired to steal a calligraphic scroll from the auction. Officially, you will be there as temporary additional companionship for the duration of the auction. You are to use your past relationship to draw out these fugitives, Simon and River Tam, and lead them into a trap with two Alliance agents." 

"And unofficially?"

"You will be helping to keep the Reynolds boy from going to prison — or worse. If that means helping these fugitives, then you will do so." 

Jin-Mei's fingers continued their restless tap, tap, tapping. "What are you not telling me?" Inara asked. The fingers stopped tapping as Jin-Mei's hand fisted in the cover. 

"I called in every favor, pulled every string, yet as long as my reach is, every single person I contacted could not help me. These agents could not be gotten to by anyone. My contacts either denied any knowledge of these people or refused to offer any information in exchange for the very highest bribes. Whatever part of the government they belong to, it's beyond the reach of even the Guild." Jin-Mei shook her head. "Daughter, there is no such thing." 

Inara rubbed her hand against her forehead. "I don't understand."

"The Companion's Guild has a long reach, Inara," Jin-Mei sighed. "It didn't take much investigating to realize that those who come in contact with these, for lack of a better word, agents, end up dead." Her thin hand reached out, gripping Inara's wrist, hard enough that she could not break free. "I called in every favor and was told 'no.' And yet, and yet it still came about that I was contacted and asked for permission to use you on the exact mission to which I was hoping to get you assigned." Jin-Mei's voice slipped to an urgent croak. "It seems that my attempts attracted attention. I think someone now believes that you are a loose end in need of tying." Inara shuddered. "I am very sorry to cause you this trouble," Jin-Mei said. "But Malcolm Reynolds must not die, Inara." 

How, how could she do this? How could she possibly keep them all safe? "No," she assented. "He must not." She folded her hands serenely in her lap, the closest she could come to a meditating posture while holding a conversation. The first step to helping any client was to consider the client. What is his personality? What are his talents? Mal, Inara thought, was an idiot. But he was a live one. If she could warn him of the trap, he would surely come up with a plan. A stupid, idiotic, noble plan that had absolutely no chance of working, and would probably get several people killed. She smiled to herself. But somehow it would work. 

"Lee's little boy must be made safe." Inara nodded, still deep in contemplation. Jin-Mei released a deep breath. "Inara?" At the soft inquiry, Inara furled her brow at the other woman. "You accomplish this, and I will let you come home." 

"You — what?"

"All debts will be paid, and I will allow you to return to House Madrassa." Even if she were to discount Jin-Mei's warning that Inara herself was in danger, she had not needed any incentive. Inara had long ago accepted that she would do nearly anything for Mal. However, to go back to the house — to rejoin her sisters, to be respected and cared for once again, was a powerful dream. 

She looked Jin-Mei straight in the eye and patted her hand reassuringly. "Don't worry, Mother. I will make it right." 

* * *

"No."

"You haven't even heard my offer yet," Badger said, pulling out a chair for Zoe. She rolled her eyes, but sat. 

"I don't need to hear your gorram offer," Mal said. "My answer is no. No, I don't like you. No, I don't trust you. No, I don't want to work with you ever again." 

"It's a unique job," Badger continued as if Mal hadn't spoken. "Requires unique handling. Naturally, I thought of your special little crew." 

"What's the job?" Zoe asked.

"That's the spirit, luv," Badger leered, smacking his lips, as he poured her a drink.

Zoe doubled up her fist in warning. The click of several hammers being cocked simultaneously filled the room. Zoe smiled. With all of her teeth. "Nothing for me, thank you." 

Badger gulped, but recovered, waving his hand to indicate that his "employees" could put their guns away. "A gentleman of my acquaintance has asked for my help in retrieving some property that was stolen from him," he said to Mal. "Some very expensive property that he forgot to insure." 

"So he stole it from someone else," Mal said with an exaggerated yawn. "They steal it back?"

"He's not sure," Badger admitted. "What he does know is that there's going to be an auction for collectors of such artifacts on board a cruise ship, the Stellar Wind. The auction is held semi-annually. All the top collectors attend. There's often a fair amount of private trading that goes on as well." 

"And your 'friend' thinks that whoever stole his 'property' will be trying to unload it there."

"Got it in one," Badger said with a wolfish grin. "I need someone to get on the ship, figure out who's got the merchandise, and steal it back." 

"No," Mal said. "You got some cows need smuggling, fine. But stealing artwork from some rich, fancible cruise ship ain't exactly our kind of job." 

"That's not what I hear," Badger said. "I hear stealing precious artifacts from rich, fancible places is exactly your kind of job. Like a Lassiter off of Bellerephon. Hypothetically speaking, of course." 

"Of course."

"Might be someone'd have trouble unloading something like that. Might be I could help. Or might be the authorities could find out just who exactly would take something like that and where to find him." 

"That's the second time you've tried to blackmail me," Mal said. "Getting a little old. Might be you don't want to try it a third time." 

"I just want to make sure we understand each other."

"Oh, I understand," Mal said. "That you're an idiot." He laughed. "How you figure to get me on? I sure as hell can't pass as an art collector." 

"All that art needs someone to protect it from, you'll appreciate the irony, thieves. Just so happens that there's been something of a turnover amongst the Stellar Wind's security force lately. They're lookin' to make some new hires. Your name might've come up." 

"Why'd you come to me with this job, Badger? Am I really the best you could scrape up for a job like this?" 

"As to that," Badger said, standing and putting on his hat. "Did a little checking. Investigating. Seems this cruise ship has hired on a few extra companions for the auction. Friend of yours is gonna be there. Always useful to have a man on the inside, so to speak." 

"Friend?" Mal asked.

Zoe glared at Badger before turning wary eyes on Mal. "He means Inara, sir."

* * *

"What's the deal, Cap?" Kaylee chirped when Mal and Zoe returned to the ship.

"We got a job," Mal replied shortly. "I want us ready to go in under a couple of hours. Kaylee, check our docking clamp. We got to dock with a cruise ship. Make sure we're compatible." 

"What's the job?" Wash asked.

"You got your assignments; get to work," Mal said. "I've got my own work to attend to." He spun and turned, marching away. 

"We smuggling dolls again?" Wash asked, wrapping his arms around Zoe.

Her lips curved into a smile, even as her eyes followed Mal's direction with worry. "It's Inara," she replied. 

"We're smuggling Inara?"

Zoe looked at her husband. "We're stealing a poem from the cruise ship. Badger gave Mal the job, because Inara's scheduled to be working at that time." 

"Ai ya," Wash moaned. "Zhen daomei. So, how long should I expect this sulk of Mal's to last?"

Zoe leaned in to place a kiss on Wash's forehead. "Until about six months after the job is over."

"Ai ya," Kaylee sighed.

* * *

Inara had looked danger in the eye before. It had been hot and prickly and scalding. That kind of danger required grace and focus to dance over the hot coals without getting burned. She was not prepared for this kind of danger. She didn't feel as if she was in any danger at all. She didn't feel anything at all. It was as if there was mere air in front of her, rather than two men, and somehow, that sucking blankness of a hole was scarier than anything she'd ever confronted before.

"The Firefly docked with this cruise ship several hours ago. Have you made contact with the fugitives yet?" the dark-haired one asked. 

"No, Mal has very good instincts." Inara clasped her hands, hoping the pose looked serene, as opposed to what it really was — an attempt to disguise the shaking of her hands. "I thought it would be best if we merely ran into each other unexpectedly. If I just go knocking at the door, he may sense a set-up and run." In reality, Inara could not contact Mal directly for fear of tipping off these men that her plan was to help him, so in the end she decided simply to cross paths with him on the cruise ship once she had been hired as temporary help for the auction. As double cover, she booked clients as normal while she waited and watched for Mal to arrive. 

"By Mal, you mean Captain Reynolds?"

Go se. Well, it was not as if they didn't already know she knew Mal. "Yes."

The red-haired man twitched his nose stiffly in what she supposed was an attempt to convey displeasure. "We brought you in, because we'd like to capture the fugitives with a minimum of attention, but that concern is secondary — very secondary — to capturing them. If there are concerns about your efficacy, it may be necessary to dispense with your help. Do you understand?" 

"You are operating under a time-limit."

"Exactly, Miss Serra, and we are not known for our patience." Granted, menacing was not an emotion companions had much call for, but these two would be excellent tutors. There was a subtle grace in the way they communicated a threat without a single change of expression or movement of any kind. Inara had an absurd impulse to congratulate them. 

She swallowed hard. Other than the blue surgical gloves covering their hands, there really was not anything odd about them. The average person may have felt uneasy in their presence. But for someone intuitive by nature, trained to be an observer of people, the strangeness, the oddness of them was nearly unbearable. "I understand," Inara said, fighting an instinctual urge to flee. 

* * *

Inara was in a hallway, flirting with a potential client when she heard the choked whisper behind her: "Inara." She turned slowly, willing herself not to fall apart. Mal's face was twisted in shock, as if her name had been ripped from the depths of his astonishment. She had imagined this moment many times, in order to prepare for the encounter. All her imaginings had been for naught. No mental image came close to the reality. She stared hungrily at his tanned hands and forearms, the hunch of his stance, the spiky silk of his hair and most of all the uncomplicated weight of his presence, that essence that marked him as a leader of men, wondering how it was possible she'd been able to endure months away from him.

She watched Mal's eyes shift toward the man she'd been talking to, taking in his well-dressed, wealthy appearance. Mal's eyes narrowed and he turned quickly, striding back down the way he'd just come. Desperately, she made her apologies to the man she'd been talking to and took off after Mal, struggling not to appear hurried. His legs were longer than hers, nor was he hampered by the need for grace. She couldn't keep up with him. 

She couldn't run after him, not with people watching. "Captain Reynolds," she called with a tight smile. "May I speak to you for a moment?" He stopped so suddenly she had to hop to keep from walking into him. 

He spun around, fury etched in the lines of his face. "Captain Reynolds?" he spat.

She glanced behind her. Her potential client had already disappeared back into his room. "Mal," she said, in a low voice. "I need to talk to you. You can't be here. You have to leave." 

"I will not," he bellowed.

"Shh," Inara said. "What if someone hears you?"

Mal choked. "Excuse me, _Miss_ Serra," he emphasized. He brushed past her.

"Mal, I need to talk to you."

"Not interested," he snapped.

She grabbed his arm. "Would you just listen?" Mal started to pull away. Over his shoulder, Inara saw a group of vacationers enter the corridor. Hastily, she pressed herself against Mal, and put her mouth close to his ear. "Unless you want to blow your cover by being seen accosting a companion in the corridor, I suggest you put your arms about me." 

He did so reluctantly. Inara bit her lip and forced herself to ignore the tingle of pleasure that shot through her as her breasts pressed against his chest. "You have to leave, because this is all a set-up. The alliance lured you here so that they could find Simon and River." 

Mal swallowed hard as her lips brushed against his earlobe. "I don't believe you," he whispered into her hair. 

"So Badger didn't contact you and ask you to steal an antique scroll of calligraphy?"

"No," Mal said. That surprised her. Her head whipped round to stare into his eyes so fast that her nose crashed into his chin. "It was a poem," he clarified. 

Inara glared. "You have to leave."

"It won't work," Mal said. "No one's going to tell them anything."

"And if they arrest all of you and try to torture the information out of Wash or Zoe?" She paused and pinned his gaze. "Or Kaylee?" His arms turned to iron, his fingers digging into her back. 

"Tzao gao!" He looked at her suspiciously. "How do you know all this?"

"There's no time to explain."

Mal sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Yes, there is." He looked around. "But not here. Meet me on Serenity. Tonight." 

"I can't." She hesitated. "I'm engaged for the evening."

He cursed. "In the morning then."

Inara nodded and pulled away. "I'll be happy to add you to my schedule, Mr. Reynolds."

* * *

A shiver ran down Inara's spine as the airlock hissed and she found herself looking, for the first time in months, at Serenity's interior. Everyone stood there to greet her in a receiving line-type formation, eerily reminiscent of how they'd said good-bye when she left. Companions were trained to be gracious in a variety of situations. But this one, most definitely, had never been covered. It was Kaylee who broke the silence first. Kaylee, who counted precious few situations awkward. Kaylee, who bounded forward with a squeal to throw her arm around Inara.

Then Simon, stiff with Core formality, "It's nice to see you again." Sweet Simon who'd responded to her first letter in great detail, letting her know how everyone was doing when Kaylee had still been too hurt and confused. Inara had known she would never hear from Mal, but to be ignored by Kaylee, however briefly, had been an unexpected sting, softened by Simon's careful handwriting and detailed doctor's eye. Then it was Book's turn and Wash's and River's and Zoe's. And even Jayne's. Mal hung back, his only comment a gruff injunction to move the conversation into the mess. 

Inara wasn't sure how much of his mother's background Mal knew, and given his feelings about companions she thought it wisest to leave the past out of her explanation. Of course, that could be why he felt the way he did. It was easier telling the story this time, even with all the interruptions and questions. This time, Mal wasn't insisting she go away. "Now you all know the situation," Mal said. "Suggestions?" 

It said a lot about how things had changed that Simon didn't immediately insist that Mal undock the ship and try to run. It hurt in some vague way to know that she'd missed that progression. "You can never go home again," a voice whispered in her head. She immediately squelched it. Serenity was not, had never been, her home. Though she wished she'd been there when Kaylee had repainted the walls. She'd written about it, of course, but it all looked so very different than she imagined. It all looked so dissimilar, but it felt the same. And she found herself stroking the walls as she listened to the crew debate. 

"If that's all true," Wash said. "Leaving won't help."

Zoe nodded, taking her husband's hand in hers. "They'll just find us again."

"What'll we do?" Kaylee asked.

"I've already thought of that. Can you get blueprints of the cruise ship?" he asked Wash. At Wash's affirmative, Mal pinched the bridge of his nose and rubbed his forehead tiredly. "We'll have to kill Simon and River." 

* * *

The meeting broke up soon after that. Inara promised Kaylee and River that she'd make time to visit with them just as soon as things became a little less life-threatening. To her surprise, Mal trailed her as she left Serenity. "Have you been spying on me?"

"What?"

"How did you happen to find out all of this?"

"I told you — the Companion's Guild has resources that—"

Mal cut her off. "Why was the Guild looking?" he demanded.

Despite all of Inara's training she couldn't think up a lie fast enough. "You _were_ spying on me," Mal crowed. Inara blinked in surprise. He was smiling. It stole her breath away. The man's smile could charm stars out of the sky. "Miss me?" 

Inara took a deep breath. "Yes."

The smile abruptly died on Mal's lips. Good, she wasn't the only one off-balance.

"Inara," he said, with something like a plea.

"Don't, I can't — I,"

His hand reached out to cup her chin. "Then I will," he said and lowered his mouth to hers.

Inara had thought a lot about what kissing Mal would be like, but she had never imagined this. She had imagined a roughness perhaps, a certain untutored passion, but not this explosion of sensation. 

His lips were gentle against hers, nibbling sparks of pleasure. Her mouth opened in a squeak of surprise, which gave him the opening he needed to slip his tongue into her mouth. Heat and sweetness and a delicious bitterness mingled together. Mal's tongue swirled against hers like a hot cup of tea mixed with warm gold honey. He trembled against her, or maybe it was the other way around. Her hands fisted into the back of his shirt, but she still couldn't find a balance. Pleasure poured down her spine, and she would swear her toes curled. There was nothing untutored about it. It went on and on, and Inara's entire being contracted into a pinpoint of feeling, wet, yielding and aching for something more. 

Mal was the one who pulled away. "Shoulda done that a long time ago," he croaked.

"I—" Inara slowly fluttered her eyes open and closed her mouth. Her world was spinning and her hands were shaking and there was nowhere for her to run. It was too much, and it was all Mal's fault. *Thwap* Pushing him away hard, Inara stumbled backward, her breathing too fast and loud. "How can you think of kissing at a time like this?" 

Mal shook his head slightly. So he was disappointed, _she_ was the one whose knees were wobbling. She had no sympathy whatsoever. "Life is short, Inara. Too damn short," he said. His hand swept across his collarbone as if to grasp something that wasn't there. "Shorter than it has any right to be." 

She looked away then. "We need to concentrate on what we're going to do about River and Simon."

"Tianxia suoyoude ren dou gaisi," he spit, causing her to whip her head back around quickly. "I can't run forever." His hand formed a fist, and if he'd been standing a little closer to the wall he might have punched it. "I thought I could," he said. "Thought if I just kept pushing out — but, it doesn't work that way, I guess." His eyes pinned her, boring into her soul, and she knew he wasn't just talking about himself. "At some point, you gotta stop running. Gotta put an end to it." 

He stepped forward, brushing his fingertips gently over her lips. "At some point, a body gets caught." 

"Don't," she begged. "Just don't." Mal's hand fell to his side; he stepped back. She turned away, ignoring the ache in her chest. 

* * *

It took only a few days to put everything together. Inara had the hardest part: convincing the feds to wait. She felt her nerves jangling as the deadline loomed closer. Inara was just getting ready to sleep when she heard the soft knock at her door. She greeted Mal with surprise, but invited him in. "I wasn't expecting to see you tonight," she murmured, feeling an unusual discomfort at being seen in her dressing gown.

He shrugged, pointedly not looking at the bare top-swell of her cleavage. "I needed to drop this off for tomorrow," he said, handing her a large metal box. 

"It's smaller than I expected," she said.

"It's collapsible," he corrected, showing her how to unbundle it. "Kaylee's a miracle worker. Don't know how Jayne got all the parts for her. Thought it better not to ask, just told him to make sure it was stuff that wouldn't go missing until we were all long gone." He laughed, rather fakely. "Jayne can sure steal ... stuff," he trailed off lamely. 

She smiled at him. Putting others at ease was comfortable, familiar territory for her. "Did you get the rest of it taken care of?" 

"Lifted the poem, that oughta convince 'em for a day longer. I also dropped the gun off." He shook his head. "Biggest take I ever had, and I'll never get a penny from it." He threaded his fingers through his hair. Comfortable, familiar territory that she apparently wasn't very good at. At least, not when it came to Malcolm Reynolds. "I should probably go. Can't have a decent conversation with someone who won't talk to you," he muttered. 

She stiffened and stuck her arm out, blocking his path. "I am the one who will not talk to you?" she hissed. "Me?" Her eyes were spitting fire. "I have sent several letters to Kaylee, one to Simon, several to the crew. Those ones, I might add, were addressed to the crew in care of yourself as the captain." She crossed her arms in front of her. "I have received several letters back — from Kaylee, from Simon, from Book. Wash wrote me once, and Zoe added a few lines. River sent me a couple of pictures—" she broke off as she remembered the drawings. One of Kaylee smiling, standing on the docking ramp, leaning against the entry way, obviously posed for, and one of Mal sitting on the catwalk moodily with his legs over the side, obviously not. She shook her head to clear it. "I even got a letter from Jayne's mother, Mal!" 

He blinked. "What did she say?"

"Don't try to sidetrack me!" She stamped her foot. To hell with grace. "All of those letters, Mal, but not one, not one from you." 

He tugged on his ear, and tried to smile disarmingly. "Well, as to that — the things I wanted to say to you aren't fit for a letter." 

That sidetracked her. "What — what things?"

"Gorramit," he swore, stepping toward her. Mal swept Inara into his arms and carried her over to the bed. 

"Mal, what are you doing?" she asked breathlessly.

"Hell if I know," he said, unhooking his suspenders.

This was a very bad idea, she thought. She should — mmph, Mal certainly was good with his hands.

Inara had had sex before, had experienced passion, tenderness. She had had _it_ in more feelings and forms than the average person knew possible. But this — this single-minded assault on her senses was like unto nothing she had ever known. She tried to gather her wits. She needed to tell Mal that — ohhh, where had he learned that? She lost her train of thought as a tide of feeling swamped her. 

In the end she was left open and gasping, clinging to the shelter of Mal's body and his trembling caresses, utterly destroyed. 

* * *

When Mal awoke the next morning the bed was empty. He looked around the room for a moment in confusion. Inara was at the mirror, hastily getting dressed, putting her earrings on. He smiled broadly, but the good morning he'd been about to utter died on his lips. Her hands were trembling. "What's wrong?" he said, rising from the bed. As she turned to him her face was set and drawn.

"I have to ... leave," she replied. She took a deep breath and rested her hand against the dressing table as if for support. "I have an appointment." 

He froze, the hand that had been reaching for her hanging in mid-air. "An appointment?" he asked through clenched teeth, trying to remain calm. Surely she didn't mean what he thought she meant. 

"A client, Mal," she clarified.

His eyes narrowed sharply, and a muscle in his jaw twitched. "You're planning to go from my bed to someone else's?" he asked with deadly calm. 

She looked away and stood. "Yes." She moved toward the door on jerky legs. She had barely touched the knob before he was on her, spinning her around roughly. 

"Don't," he pleaded. "Inara, I—"

"Mal, I _have_ to," she said.

"No," he said. "Tianna, no, you don't. Gorramit. Stay here with me. We'll figure something out, you can quit" 

"I don't want to quit," she cried. Her words shattered against him like glass. He stared at her helplessly, his hands falling away. "This isn't a job, Mal. It's who I am." 

"A whore?!"

She sucked in her breath, and closed her eyes in defeat. For a long moment, they both stood there breathing harshly into the silence. Then she opened her eyes as tears slipped down her cheeks. "Yes, Mal. I am a whore," she said tiredly, looking him in the eye with her chin raised. 

"Why?"

A sudden sob racked her, before it was ruthlessly quelled. "I wish I could explain, but I _have_ to go." There was a bitter edge to her voice. "I will not be late," she said. "In this, I am a lady." She turned back toward the door. With an air of finality, she brushed the tears from her cheeks and pasted a tremulous smile upon her face. 

"If you walk out that door," Mal said desperately, "I don't want you to come back." She nodded once and pulled the door open. "Inara, I'm begging you. Don't—" The door closed. He stared stupidly at it until the cold began to touch him. He hadn't realized; he was naked. 

* * *

Inara forced herself not to rush and tip her hand. She must not be too eager or nervous at this stage. "They're coming," she told them. "They've agreed to meet me in the solarium this evening. I've convinced them that it will be safe, because everyone will be in the auction room."

"What reason did you give for wanting to meet with them?"

Inara smiled. She'd been prepared for this question. "It is just so sad that poor River and Simon are confined so much of the time on that ship. Capital City is, after all, renowned as a center of horticulture. Of course, the solarium here cannot compare. However, so many of the rim planets are sadly lacking in distinctive vegetation, anything would seem rich in comparison. The poor dears do get so little chance to treat themselves anymore." She winked at the two men, though she had to choke on bile to do so. "They will be there; you just have to be ready." 

The dark-haired man patted his pocket ominously. "We've got everything we need. Thank you for your service, Miss Serra." 

"Be sure to stick around afterward," the red-haired man added. "We have a reward for you."

Inara managed to just barely to repress a shudder. Even a badly trained companion could have caught the double-meaning in that. Malevolence was no excuse for sloppiness. 

* * *

By prior agreement, Simon and River were to take the maintenance access tunnels through the cruise ship to just outside the solarium in order to preserve the fiction that they were afraid of being seen. Inara waited impatiently outside where they were to emerge, all the while telling herself that just standing about without looking as if one was just standing about was surely good practice. For what, she was not sure. In any case, she was quite relieved when they did indeed finally emerge. "Are you ready?" she asked. Simon took a deep breath and nodded tightly. But River smiled brightly up at Inara.

"Gonna see the stars."

Inara pushed a button, and the door to the solarium slid open. For the rest of her life the memory of River's not-in-the-least-bit-feigned scream would come back to keep her awake at night. 

Simon gasped in shock as the two men stepped forward and looked at Inara with hurt and betrayal. "You!" Inara looked away, her heart thumping wildly. It was too real. "River," Simon cried, grabbing his sister's hand and charging blindly down the hall away from the solarium. The two men tramped after them, and Inara trailed behind. 

Simon and River burst through the only doorway in the hall and seemed to stop in confusion, belatedly realizing they had stormed into the auction. 

The auctioneer stopped speaking as rows of people craned their necks to see what the commotion was. Simon's eyes darted wildly around the room. He hurtled up the center aisle, River in tow. Springing up onto the dais, he grabbed an antique Lassiter off the display table. His trembling fingers flicked a switch on its base and the gun roared to life. With shaking hands, he pointed it toward the blue-handed men. "Stay back," he ordered. 

The two men looked around implacably. Inara wondered if a gun could even hurt them. Too many witnesses, she thought to herself, as if she could make the two men think it. Too many witnesses to display their invulnerability to. Too many rich and powerful people with rich and powerful relatives who could make inquiries were they to die. 

For whatever reason, the blue-handed men did pause before taking hesitant steps forward. "There's no place to go," the dark-haired one said. 

"Back, I said!" Simon yelled. River whimpered. He pushed her behind him and slowly began to back toward a door at the side of the room The two men took another step forward. Simon pulled the trigger. Instead of firing, a horrible, shrieking whine started. 

"It's overloading," someone cried. With a look of desperation, Simon and River turned and ran through the door they'd been inching toward. The two men followed, but mere steps before they reached the door a boom tore from the room and flames appeared at the window. Automatically, a lead wall dropped down from the ceiling cutting off the room from view. "Tianna," the auctioneer said. "That's where we store the extra oxygen tanks. The gun must have overloaded." 

The red-haired man paced over to him. "Open it," he ordered.

"Are you mad?" the auctioneer said. "That room is on fire."

"Open it, now," the dark-haired man said, joining his comrade to loom over the auctioneer.

"I can't. This ship is built to automatically seal off that room in case of fire and to open out into space until it's out. Once the temperature returns to normal it'll close back up and the lead curtain will retract." 

"Those two are wanted criminals!"

The auctioneer shook his head. "You needn't worry about them. Even if they survived the explosion, they're dead now. Sucked into space. No one could survive that." 

* * *

They'd be looking for someone to blame later, she knew, but she also knew they already wanted her dead. Nowhere to go from there but up. She'd sort it out later. Or rather Mal would. He could generally be counted on to survive impossible situations and bring one or two people along with him. My, she was in a mood. She was beginning to sound like Wash. Must be something to do with having watched Simon and River explode to death in a fiery ball.

While the blue-handed men marched off to search Serenity, followed helpfully by one or two hundred curious onlookers, she trudged back to her room. 

She wanted to rush back to her stateroom, but of course, companions didn't rush, especially when trying to appear beyond suspicion. Her face was grim and drawn as she ambled back, not in the least bit hurried. Really. 

She grinned in relief once she had the door to her room firmly shut. Simon's helmeted face peered anxiously into her window. Of course it was. It was supposed to be, but really it had been quite an impressive fireball. She spared him a comforting smile before fetching the portable airlock Kaylee had designed from under her bed. There was a whirring and a pop, then a clanging as Simon emerged from the small tube. There was another clanging, then a pause. Inara heard the whirring sound again, and then River emerged. The airlock fell away, and it was as if the view port had never been moved. Mal clearly did not pay Kaylee nearly what she was worth. Simon was paler than usual as he climbed out of his suit. 

"I am so sorry," Inara began. "I wanted to hurry, but—"

Simon waved her apology away. "No, no, we don't want to raise their suspicions." He made a deprecating moue. "It's just that I don't always get these things on right even when I have more than thirty seconds to do so." 

River rolled her eyes in the way of little sisters. "He worries about _everything,"_ she said disgustedly. 

Inara laughed. "They're searching Serenity now. After they don't find you—" she bit her lip. "Well, hopefully—" 

"Is the crew in any danger? These people — on Ariel—"

She put a comforting hand on his arm. "They cannot make an entire cruise ship disappear," she said. "And, thus, there are too many witnesses were something to happen to the crew. We were lucky in that respect." 

Simon snorted.

Inara smiled ruefully. "Under the circumstances."

"What about you? An accident of some sort to a single individual is a lot easier to explain."

She sighed. "I don't expect any visitors, but I suppose they'll want to stop by and 'debrief' me. Beyond that — well, there's still Mother Jin-Mei. She knows why I am here, and she's thoroughly connected in the Guild. She's old and sick, but she never leaves the House." 

"They can't get to her."

Inara nodded. "They'll wait until nature takes its course."

"You mean they'll wait until there's no one to remember that you were here."

"If they show up to talk, we can hide in the bathroom, I suppose." Simon looked at his sister. "That'll work?" 

River bit her lip and grasped her arm, shivering. "No special senses," she said. "They won't 'see' us." Another change, Inara thought. Whatever gifts River had, it seemed Simon was comfortable enough with them to ask her to use them. 

"We should get some sleep," Inara said finally. "Make sure we are ready for whatever tomorrow brings." 

"River, why don't you go ahead and wash up first?" Simon suggested.

Inara was puzzled as she saw the girl wink at her brother as she left the room.

"Inara," Simon said, hesitating. Whatever he felt he needed to say, it clearly made him uncomfortable. "The captain seemed a bit upset when he came in this morning." 

"Mmmm?" Inara said politely.

"Quite. Despite having returned, as I mentioned, this _morning."_

"Would you like some tea?"

"Yes, thank you." There was an awkward pause. It seemed that since she had left Serenity, Simon had finally learned when to let things go. He opened his mouth. On the other hand, as bad as Simon had been at knowing when to be quiet, she remembered that he was even worse at actually doing so. 

"Is there a point to all this or are you merely trying to make conversation?" she asked, before he could continue. 

"I am trying to be your friend. Serenity's been a different place without you. It's obvious that — look, you said you were going away to find out what you are. I had hoped by now you would know." 

"I am a companion," she stated firmly. She held his gaze for all of ten seconds before crumpling. "I am a companion, and Mal thinks I am a whore." 

Simon took her hand. "He doesn't really. He's just trying to protect himself. He loves you."

Inara scoffed. "He has an odd way of showing it."

Simon grinned mischievously. "Mal has an odd way of doing, well, everything, I have noticed."

"He does indeed," she laughed. She took her hand away. "I'm sorry, I know you're trying to be helpful. Simon, I—." Inara looked away, the tightening of her lips the only sign of inner distress. "Didn't you ever wonder why they chose me to work for them? I was an informer for the Alliance," she said. "In a way." 

Simon rocked back as if he'd been slapped. His face turned starkly pale under the lamp light. "River," he gasped. 

"No," Inara assured. "Simon, I would never, _will_ never tell anyone about her, but I can't — I can't stay. Mal wouldn't even want me to." 

Simon sighed. "I don't know what happened between the two of you." He raised a hand to quell her when she started to speak. "It's none of my business." He tugged at his lip. "But you are wrong if you don't think that Mal wants you to come back. When I said that Serenity was a different place without you, well, the truth is that Mal has been a different man. Whatever he says, he needs you." Simon held out his arm to reveal the long scratch running down it. "River didn't feel like taking any tests the other day. She wasn't really trying to hurt me; she was just—" 

"Protecting herself."

"Mal finds it easier to fight than admit that he doesn't think he has anything you want." She didn't answer. "Just promise me that if he comes to see you, you will hear him out." 

"Simon, I can't—"

"Then you're a fool, Inara, and I know you are not. You know I'm not here just because I'm worried about Mal. If I thought you were happy—" River came out of the bathroom then, ending the discussion. Simon spared one last hard glance at Inara, and then went in himself. 

* * *

_Mal looked down Main Street in confusion. He couldn't for the life of him remember why he'd come in to town. "Why Malcolm Reynolds, is that you?" a jolly voice behind him cried._

_Mal spun around to see an old man sweeping the walkway in front of the store. "Mr. Blue!" He hastily tipped his hat. "How are you, sir?"_

_"Just fine, just fine. Would you like a piece of candy, Malcolm?" Mr. Blue asked._

_"No, sir," Mal said. The wind picked up. Mal hugged his coat tighter around him. "I was just on my way to—." The wind stirred the dust in the street, stinging his eyes. Mal blinked his eyes and for a moment it seemed as if Mr. Blue had disappeared. He blinked his eyes again, clearing his vision. It seemed awfully quiet; he turned and looked the other way down the street. There was no one in sight. "Mr. Blue, where is everyone?"_

_"Oh, I expect they're at the bar, son. You're running a bit early, ain't ya?"_

_"Early? I—I don't know." Mal said. "Feels like I've been gone forever. Just how long—" But as he turned, he saw Mr. Blue was gone._

_Across the street, a sign was flashing "Welcome. Come on in." Mal walked into the building, down a long flight of stairs into the bar._

_The air was thick with smoke and muggy from body heat, but the lively strains of a fiddle filtered through the hall._

_As Mal's eyes adjusted to the relative gloom indoors, he saw that on what passed for a stage, some of his Ma's hands had formed a band. He moved deeper through the crowd, pausing when he noticed that Dan and Margarita were dancing. His ma had written him that they'd been planning to divorce. He guessed she'd been wrong._

_"Malcolm!" He spun around quickly, his heart nearly in his throat._

_"Ma!" he hollered, throwing his arms around her and catching her in a big hug. "What are you doing here?"_

_"We'd been takin' bets on when you was getting here," she said. "I guess I just lost." She pulled away. "Well, let me look at ya. Aren't you fine? Still wearing that old brown coat, I see. You got to give it up one of these days, son."_

_Mal laughed. "Who's we?" he said._

_She drew him over to the back wall where Butch and Jimmy John were arguing Holsteins versus Herefords while they played pool. An old man sat on a stool nearby watching. "Captain Perkins, sir," Mal said, saluting hurriedly._

_"Sergeant Reynolds," the man said with a nod. "I'm retired now." He winked at Mal's ma. "That means you don't have to salute, but you do have to buy me a drink."_

_Mal patted his pockets in consternation. "I'd like to buy everyone a drink, but I don't think I—" he stopped as felt a lump. With surprise, he drew out a small bundle of cash. "Will you look at that?" he whooped. "Enough for everyone and a few more for me besides."_

_"You might want to leave the Wang brothers out," his ma cautioned. She nodded to where they stood by the fireplace, throwing back whiskey and singing to the chorus at the top of their lungs. "I hope they brought steady horses. Ain't no other way they're going to make it back to Silver City tonight."_

_"Aw, quit fussing, Miz Reynolds, we all know you're gonna offer to let 'em bed down at the ranch tonight," Butch said with a smile._

_"Oh, go back to your game," she muttered. "Can you believe the sass I'm getting, Malcolm?"_

_Mal was grinning ear-to-ear as he looked around the place. "Don't think you can con me into taking sides," he warned. "I don't know why, but I just feel so good," he said. "Everyone's here, Ma. Everyone, I—." As his eyes strayed to the top of the stairs, he saw her. Inara. She was looking around the room, searchingly, and then he caught her eye. She smiled broadly. "Just a minute, Ma," Mal said._

_"I've missed you, son, but not so much that I need you hanging around. I told you I didn't expect you for a long time yet." She shooed him with her hands. "Get."_

_He pushed through the crowd and ran to the top of the stairs. "Inara," he said._

_"Mal." She grinned and held out her hand._

_He took it, leading her down the stairs. "I'm so glad you came," he said. "There's someone I want you to meet." He couldn't remember a time he'd ever been happier._

_"Ma, Ma!" he called. "Where'd you go?" "Ma?"_

"Mal. Mal." He woke with a start, dimly taking in the pounding on his door.

"Come on in, Zoe," he shouted. He stood and stretched, yawning. The interruption had blown the dream right from his mind. He wondered what it'd been about. He felt like he'd lost something important. 

"They've gone, Mal," Zoe said as she came down the ladder into his bunk.

"We sure?" he asked, pulling on his pants.

"Kaylee was stationed in the air duct by the airlock like you said. They definitely got on the ship; it took off half an hour ago." 

He nodded, pulling on a clean shirt, and tucking it into his pants. "Good, is it morning yet?"

"Barely, sir."

"All right," he grimaced, but continued. "Don't know what Inara's schedule was like last night. We can wait a bit to go fetch the doc and his sister. Make sure we're not disturbing her sleep." He snapped his suspenders. "Although, might be she'd appreciate us showing up as soon as possible. Probably wants to get back to her life." 

"Sir?" Zoe said cautiously. "About Inara, sir—"

"Nothing to say about that."

"Xia shuo, sir." Zoe shook her head. "As long as I've known you, sir, you ain't been a quitter. You've gotten us in to some pretty stupid situations because of it, too." 

"Well, thank you very much!" he snapped. Zoe eyed him reproachfully, and he swallowed, feeling like a naughty boy. 

"What you and Inara have, sir, it's worth more than any two-bit take we ever got. It's sure as hell worth fighting just as hard for. Do you really want to go through the rest of your life wondering if only you'd said something it could've made a difference?" Zoe turned around to leave, but paused at the doorway. "You just think on that, Mal. If I were you, I'd wait a bit to fetch the Tams. Maybe clean myself up a bit first." She stalked out of the room, leaving Mal stroking the stubble on his chin thoughtfully. 

* * *

It was Mal who came to tell Simon and River that it was safe to make their way back to Serenity.

They weren't gone five minutes when Mal was back knocking at her door. "I left the poem here when ... you know." 

She turned around and looked. It had been sitting on the vanity ever since, and she'd never noticed. She walked over to get it, but it wasn't until she heard the click of the door that she realized Mal had followed her. 

As always, he was direct. "I want you to come back to Serenity."

Inara closed her eyes, and tried to calm her heart. His words should not mean so much to her. "The Companion's Guild rules for dating are complicated." 

He scoffed, "You think I want to date you?" He pursed his lips as he walked farther into the room. "Hiding behind rules is beneath you." 

"Mal, I don't know. If I go back with you, if I go back to Serenity and we can't make it work, it would break my heart." 

"Mine's already breaking," he said, his voice low and urgent. "Inara, I don't want to spend my life lost in the woods." 

"But we are lost, Mal. I keep thinking that we're going to get past this, and then we don't," she said. "When I'm with you, everything is perfect and wonderful, and I feel so happy—" 

"Me too," Mal said.

"—And then I don't. Because it isn't. It doesn't matter whose fault it is, Mal. It's just the way it is. We're like, like—" She looked wildly around the room. Her eyes landed on the ancient, cracked and crumbling scroll. "Like this fragment of a lost poem," she said, indicating the scroll. "There is always going to be a piece missing, Mal." 

"It doesn't have to be that way," Mal said.

"Whether it has to be that way or not, that's the way it is, Mal. I'm a companion. I can't — I won't give that up. What would you have me do? Do you want to hire me as the cook? Maybe I can help Kaylee with the engine? Or take up knife-collecting with Jayne?" She tossed her head. "Or will I earn my keep as your private whore?" 

"Don't," he warned, his voice dangerously low.

"I am a companion, Mal. That is all I know I how to be. And you can't handle it, you proved that the other day." 

"One time, Inara. That was one time. A man can be forgiven for being surprised — for acting badly when he hears that—" 

"I'm always going to be a whore to you, Mal. I can't forgive that, not anymore."

"Inara," he pleaded, gripping her arms tightly. "When we leave here — if they know all you say they do we're gonna need a new ship. Gonna have to find new routes, avoid the old places, push out to new ones. Get off the grid until we're sure they think River and Simon are dead. Do you understand what I'm saying? You can't change your mind. You won't be able to find us." 

She pulled away. "I won't change my mind."

He stepped in front of her, blocking her escape. "I'm not going to let you throw us away like this. I love you," he yielded. 

She gaped, quite suddenly sure that he had never said the words to anyone but her in his life. At least, not with that meaning. 

There are some things that once said, can never be taken back. There are some words that you should never throw back in a man's face. So it was with devastating deliberation that Inara looked Mal straight in the eye, and told him, "I don't believe you. Anyway, it doesn't matter. I apologize. I should never have slept with you. I should have remembered. Things fall apart when I try to be something other than I am. I really am very sorry, Mal, but companions don't fall in love." 

Once again, Inara found herself walking away from the very person she wanted to run to.

She was standing out in the hall when she realized that they'd been in her room. She walked the ship, and when she finally returned hours later, Mal was gone. 

* * *

He'd lost. Well, that was fine. It wasn't the first time, wouldn't be the last. He'd had lots of experience being on the losing side. Just keep going. Had a job to do. He walked onto the ship with leaden feet. The job. Just do the job.

They were in the cargo bay, doing tian xiaode when he walked in. Waiting on him. Well, gorram, of course they were. He was the captain after all. Be the captain. 

"All right, we got one more day until our contract with the cruise is up. We're gonna stay, maintain our cover. River and Simon'll lay low. Jayne and Zoe can do security. Wash, Kaylee, you start looking for places to go. We're gonna have to push out; far enough to be off the radar, not so far we can't sell the ship and find jobs." 

"Sell Serenity?" Kaylee cried.

"The Alliance can tie it to us. We gotta keep them from tracking us, long enough to convince 'em the Tams really are dead. Besides," he said, "Leaving the Alliance behind was always the plan." 

"But selling your ship?" Simon sounded horrified.

"She ain't worth dying for."

"But ..." Simon sighed and turned anguished eyes on Mal. "It's not fair."

"It surely ain't," Mal agreed. "Life ain't, Doc, you know that." Mal tugged on his ear. Good advice, that. He should have remembered it himself. 

"I suppose I do; I just, I never wanted to get anyone else involved in all this."

Mal shrugged. "I'm a big boy, son. She ain't worth all this hand-wringing." He wished they'd all stop looking at him. He closed his eyes. "I'm taking a shift tonight," he said. "Better get some rest. Be in my bunk until then." 

He didn't even bother to lie down, knowing he'd hear the click of her boots on his ladder before his head even hit the pillow. 

"Mal?" she asked softly.

"She doesn't want me, Zoe," Mal said.

Zoe and Mal had been through a lot together, but she'd never had to wipe away his tears before.

* * *

Inara was surprised to see Zoe in the hall, until she remembered that Serenity was ostensibly here to provide security. "I was just heading back to the ship," Zoe said. "I had to escort a few people to the safe. Folks are jumpy." She paused. "Can we talk?"

Inara gestured to the nearby solarium. There were benches and relative privacy inside. They walked silently until they found a suitable stopping place. Zoe sat down next to Inara. Inara smiled at her hesitantly, but Zoe didn't say anything, just pulled a few items out of her jacket and began cleaning her gun silently. She seemed to be searching for words. After a long moment, she sighed. "Did you know Wash fought in the war?" Zoe asked. 

"Yes," Inara answered, puzzled. She had expected something else. "He spent the last few years in a P.O.W. camp, I believe." 

"That's right," Zoe said. "He was there for a long time. The man had barely started when he got picked up." She paused and stopped to study the gun stock, looked at her kit and selected some polish. "After he'd been there awhile, they started having problems with the supply lines. The camp wasn't much of a priority. Who cares if enemy soldiers have enough to eat? Most people in charge at a place like that would have fed their own people first, prisoners be damned. But the guy in charge where Wash was at didn't feel that way. He and those under him shared what food they could get equally with the prisoners. So they all starved together." Zoe paused again in her work and studied Inara out of the corner of her eye. "Wash told me that it made him really respect the Independents." 

Inara's breath caught. "Wash fought for the Alliance?"

Zoe nodded. "Enlisted before the war started. All my man had ever wanted was to fly, and it was the Alliance had the flight schools. He was so scared to tell me." Zoe's eyes were faraway, and there was a faint smile on her lips. "But he felt he owed it to me to let me know before we got married. You can imagine how I felt when he told me, how I reacted." 

"Yes," Inara said incredulously. "I can't believe that—"

"I married him? I wasn't going to. Not a tamade purple belly. I knew, even if Wash didn't, that it would never work. The next day, Mal and I got into a bad situation. I was sure we were going to die. And all I could think about was that look on Wash's face and the things I had said to him. I was going to die and he'd spend the rest of his life thinking I didn't love him, that I hated him." 

"But you didn't."

"No, Mal pulled a miracle out of his pigu like always and when I got back to the ship I headed straight for Wash. I wasn't going to be so afraid of losing something that I wasn't going to try to have it," Zoe finished, picked up her kit and stood. "Mal still doesn't know about Wash and I appreciate you not telling him." 

"Of course not," Inara said.

"We're leaving tomorrow," Zoe said. "I hope — I hope that I see you again."

"Thank you," Inara said, with a bit more warmth than she felt. She'd had quite a lot of people talking at her lately. As well intentioned as they may have been, it was not as if any of them really understood. She pushed aside the voice that said perhaps they understood better than she did. 

* * *

Had anyone ever asked, Inara would have said that returning to Sihnon was the wish nearest her heart.

It had taken her mere weeks to discover that she was wrong. The lights of Sihnon blotted out the stars unnaturally. The view from the house was always the same. And heavens, the current crop of banfeis must surely be tone-deaf, if the sounds from the music room during dulcimer practice were any indication. 

The worst was having to account for every moment, asking the house mother for permission to go out every time she wanted to buy something as simple as a spool of thread. Inara had forgotten how positively sinful independence felt. Losing it made her feel contracted, lesser somehow. 

It was not that she wanted to stop being a companion. Some of her clients were unsavory, yes, but some were just lonely or shy or otherwise in need of companionship. It wasn't just vanity that made her feel she was helping people. 

She just wished she could stop crying when she was alone.

When she'd originally left Serenity, there had been so much for her to do. She had needed the time to think and plan. But here, here everything was pretty much done for her, and there was only so much honing her skills needed. She had too much time to think. Too much time to reflect about the sameness of her days stretching on until forever. She wasn't even helping her clients much. Out on the rim, she'd gone places where companions had never been. Here there were 30 others in this house alone to take her place, and House Madrassa wasn't even the only companion house on the planet. 

There were other things she missed, but she didn't let herself think of those. It was just sometimes, well, she thought of Zoe married to a purple belly, Simon no longer making embarrassingly large stacks of money, and she rather wished she'd explored that what-if a little longer. She hadn't loved and lost. She'd quit. Maybe she and Mal would not have been able to work it out. Could it possibly have hurt worse than this? Could anything? She thought of Mal's mother, leaving all this for a ranch on Shadow and an early death. Had Mal been worth it? Most of all, Inara thought of all the mistakes she'd already made in her life. Times when she'd been so sure she was doing the right thing. _We doubt so much with time,_ she remembered Jin-Mei saying. 

Yes. She doubted.

Inara stood, resolute, and began to haul out her traveling cases. It might take her a very long while, but she was going to find him. A knock at the door interrupted her reverie. "Come in," she called. 

The door opened far enough to reveal a banfei on message duty. "House priestess Jin-Mei requests your presence." 

"Thank you, Mikayla. I will be there shortly."

* * *

Only the color of the linens had changed since Inara had last been in Jin-Mei's room. "Inara," Jin-Mei began. "A certain similarity to the clients you have chosen since returning has not escaped my notice."

"Pardon, house mother?" Inara asked, though she knew quite well to what the other woman was referring. 

"Young men with sandy hair and blue eyes," Jin-Mei clarified, pursing her lips.

"Really?" Inara asked, feigning surprise badly. Jin-Mei cocked her head and just looked at her. Inara disliked that look intensely. "Perhaps," she conceded. 

"Well, perhaps," Jin-Mei replied. "There is a reason for that?"

"It doesn't matter," Inara said tonelessly. "The way I left things — he wouldn't want me to come back, even if I knew where to find him." 

"You want to find him?"

Inara picked up a barrette from the nearby table, hooking and rehooking the clasp. "I love him," she whispered. She looked at Jin-Mei and repeated it. "I love him," she said again, stronger. 

"Then, perhaps," Jin-Mei said sarcastically. "You will be interested in this letter that has arrived addressed to you." 

Inara's heart gave a thump that quickly died when she realized that the return address was the same as Jayne's mother. She gasped, however, once she drew the contents out of the already open envelope and the evidence of her eyes caught up with her brain. It was another fragment of the poem. Mal's accompanying note was characteristically terse. 

_Inara,  
What is lost can be found. Missing pieces can be mended. Any way I can have you, I want you. Give me a chance to prove it. Come home. A certain merc's mother can tell you where we are._

Tears shimmered in her eyes as she clasped the note to her chest and raised a prayer of thanks to the heavens. Jin-Mei harrumphed, having read the missive over Inara's shoulder. "It seems you were not destined to be a house mother after all," she sighed. 

"Mother—"

"Don't get emotional on me, girl," Jin-Mei ordered. "Save it for the clients."

"I have to find passage to—"

Jin-Mei cut her off by slipping a list into her hand. "I've been watching you these last few weeks," she said. "Keeping a current list of transport ships in port seemed like a good idea." Jin-Mei submitted to Inara's enthusiastic hug. "Inara, if you ever decide to retire in order to get married, I probably will not have you shunned," Jin-Mei said, rolling her eyes as if the whole thing was just too outre for words. 

Inara laughed through her tears. "I will keep that in mind."

* * *

Inara stepped down out of the hackney carriage into the bright sunshine high in the sky over the planet. It bounced off the metal ships blinding her. She raised her hand to shade her eyes and turned. Mal and Kaylee were perfectly framed in Serenity's open doorway, but all Inara saw was Mal. His tan had deepened since she'd seen him last, his shape a touch more wiry. He'd been working hard in the outdoors apparently. Kaylee said something that made him smile, a wide end-to-end grin that set Inara's heart knocking in her chest. She took a deep breath and stepped onto the ramp. They both turned and looked at her then. Without a word, Kaylee melted away, but not Mal. He stood there looking at her in shock, hope and wariness battling on his face. She supposed she should speak first, but she had no words.

"You got my letter," he said finally.

"No! Yes, I did but—" she rushed the last few steps up the ramp, stopping just before she crashed into him. "I don't want you to think that that is why I came. I was already packing to come after you, Mal. I swear it." 

"You were?" he breathed. Even in the harsh light of the sun, he looked oddly young and vulnerable.

"Yes!" she said, throwing her arms around him, reaching up on tip-toe to cover his face with kisses. "Yes, yes, yes, Mal. I want you, too. Any way I can have you." 

His arms went around her then, hard, crushing her to him. "Oh, tianna, Inara." He buried his face in her hair. "Tianna, I love you. I love you." 

"I know, Mal. I know. Oh, don't—" she cried as she felt him shake against her. "Don't, I'm here. I'm here now." 

"To stay?" he asked.

"Yes," she replied. "We'll work it out somehow."

* * *

There were still a lot of things to work out, and Inara foresaw many future disagreements. But the main thing was settled, they loved each other. She supposed that she might in the future wish to retire. She and Mal might get married. Or not. They might want children. Or not. For now, it was enough to be here. To be together. To be home.

Inara noticed that Zoe ate more at dinner than usual. Apparently, she and Mal weren't the only couple to have settled an argument. 

She found herself grinning foolishly, her eyes roving over the ship to take it all in. "I thought you were going to sell her," she said to Mal. 

He smiled at her, raising her hand to his lips. "Couldn't find a buyer. No one appreciates a good Firefly anymore." 

Inara smiled back, brushing her fingertips along the hull. "I do."

Finis

**Author's Note:**

> Rated for adult situations and implied violence.
> 
> Mal's dream sequence is modified from the song "Feeling Good Again," sung by Robert Earl Keen.
> 
> I put off adding this fic to AO3 for the longest time, because I knew that I'd have to come up with a series title. I never did find one I was completely happy with, but I kept coming back to how I've always conceived the two fics, which is as a story about Inara leaving Serenity and a story about her coming back. It's an analogy: tide is to moon as Inara is to ____.


End file.
